


14th Century Mores

by ElectricKettle (DaLaRi)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drabble Collection, Everyone Has Temporally Varied Vocabulary, M/M, Smut, mostly unedited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25479766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaLaRi/pseuds/ElectricKettle
Summary: A collection of drabbles about various Good Omens angels having a hard time not using Middle English/14th century cultural conventions, mostly used for comedy and smut purposes.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 3





	1. Sift My Grain

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reading Obscene Pedagogies by Carissa Harris and this is the result.

“bultyn, Crowley, bultyn! please, please…”

"I’m sorry, what was that angel?"

"you know, the,” he attempts to move his hips, but Crowley pins him, stops the movement, “like with grain,” he says, miserably.

he says “like with grain, in _Middle_ _English?_ ” and Azi, crawling towards overstimulated, grunts and tries to push back onto Crowley, and Crowley holds him. “sorry angel, but did I manage to fill you up so tightly that you got shunted back to the..” he counts on one hand while holding Az with the other, “14th century?”

Azi makes an inarticulate noise. Crowley rocks once, slightly, and az shouts.

“ _Answer_ me.”

“Yes! Yes, yes you did, ooh you devil, you demon you.” Crowley grins at Az’s spite. The fact that he could get out of this at any moment, that he was infinitely stronger than Crowley, actually, and could either ride Crowley or disengage from him at a moment’s notice always made his rage that much more comedic when it came. He moved, a leisurely slap of his hips, and flexed his penises inside Azi. Azi shouted and hissed desperately to keep from swearing. He was well aware that Crowley was at the point where he’d tease him for whatever he said.

“it’s getting close to your record, angel,” Crowley said. “maybe I should up the stakes.” he touched just at the joint of aziraphale’s tailbone and poured divine (occult) sensitivity into the nerves he was nestled up against, and aziraphale squirmed and shouted, “fuck, Crowley, don’t I’m,” and came.

it was sweet that Azi had this competitiveness with himself, records against himself, etc, but Crowley was a demon and he was, ultimately, very good and invested in foiling Aziraphale's plans.

When Az stopped trembling so much he pulled himself off of Crowley, leaving his cocks to free-bob in the air, turned himself over, and blew his hair out of his face, glaring at Crowley.

Crowley leaned down, languid, stealing a kiss while Az’s overwarm face continued to glare. he rutted, gently, against Aziraphale's belly, and as the angel caught his breath, he twined his fingers in Crowley's hair as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge of desperation.

Aziraphale pulled his head back, and Crowley knew he looked a sight, flushed down to his navel, cocks rutting awkwardly, framing Aziraphale's own flaccid one before skating over it, along the glide of his low belly.

“Oh, what am I going to do with you, Crowley,” he said.

Crowley, trying to concentrate, couldn’t speak, just let his eyes rove wildly as the tension lanced down his chest to his cocks, as he tried, desperately, to keep himself in some sort of a rhythm. After a moment, Aziraphale let him free, keeping soft fingertips in his hair, but letting Crowley go back to his concentration. It was hardly a minute more when he, too, was spilling, coming to Aziraphale's litany of “god, aren’t you lovely,” and other sweet things.

Aziraphale come must have cooled on his belly in the time since he'd come, but when Azi motions them both clean, he doesn’t mention it. He kisses below Crowley's eye and he turns into it, a long low huff as he wraps his arms around Aziraphale, still nestled between his thighs. Aziraphale's hand toys with his hair and dawdles at his hip, and Crowley feels unbearably loved. He rests his fangs against Aziraphale's skin and makes a grumpy sound when az sharply tugs at his head.

“it’s not fair,” he says.

“hm?”

“that you get to be lovely, and I have to be this.”

aziraphale hmm’s absently. “you’ll catch up with me.”

the faith in his voice soothes crowley.

“yeah I guess, if you have your way with me,” he says, and grabs for the blanket.

aziraphale indulges him by sleeping, too, and it’s so warm and so lovely that Crowley cries.

aziraphale holds him, even in his sleep.  
  



	2. Oh You Know...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azi's not out to family.

have you meddled with the demon?

meddled with? yes, meddled right and left, nothing of his left unmeddled, ever since I left I have been meddling with the demon.

no. aziraphale. I mean, have you, you know… _meddled_ with him?

 _no. absolutely_ not. my sworn enemy? _Crowley?_

I had to ask. you two are linked now, in heaven and in hell. whenever we talk about one of you we talk about the other. it’d be strange if speculation _didn’t_ happen.

well. thank you for telling me. or maybe not. I haven’t decided.

alright. well then, either my apologies or not my apologies. goodbye aziraphale.

good _bye,_ Gabriel.


End file.
